


Sunset

by dirtylittlegreasemonkey



Category: Emmerdale
Genre: M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-02-06
Updated: 2016-02-06
Packaged: 2018-05-18 16:07:15
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 747
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/5934556
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/dirtylittlegreasemonkey/pseuds/dirtylittlegreasemonkey
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Short fic. Set after Robert put his arm around Aaron in the scrapyard on 4th Feb 2016.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Sunset

**Author's Note:**

> Allusions to - but no explicit references to - the canon of Aaron's childhood abuse.

He realised, as they sat together on the bonnet of the carcass car, that he was listening to Aaron breathing again. Shallow and shaky and then nothing for a few nightmare seconds. Nothing nothing nothing. And then a long, slow, clearing release. It had only been two weeks ago – give or take – that he’d spent the whole night awake listening to that rhythm of air as Aaron tried to sleep on the sofa at Debbie’s. Once he’d started concentrating on Aaron’s breathing he found he was holding his own breath and couldn’t slip back into unconscious breathing. He was preoccupied with thinking about the human body, that he could somehow forget how to breathe. Then he was monitoring every sensation in the room, every noise, every movement, every sight. Anything and everything to push out what Aaron had told him. That great, swelling knot in his chest that he couldn’t think about, couldn’t even comprehend what to do with. Exhaustion dragged him under eventually, betrayed him, and it was late morning – groggy - before he could even begin to process what Aaron had said.

It was cold at the scrapyard, even pressed together as they were. Thigh to thigh, head to chest. His cheek rested briefly against the top of Aaron’s head and Aaron felt colder than he was. Robert didn’t want to speak, didn’t want to interrupt the contact of his hand easing comfort back into Aaron. He couldn’t bear for Aaron to push him away again, not now. And he didn’t exactly have the greatest track record of saying the right thing at the right time.

It wasn’t a nice sunset any more. Or, at least, it wasn’t the sunset that inspires great art or even a holiday postcard. The sky had bled to a thin amber, blurring with a dishwater grey. He wondered what Aaron was thinking, whether he was worrying over Chas, deliberating on the issue of going to the police. Robert had never paid much interest in skies and sunsets before. Too busy. Too much to do, too many thoughts, too many people to fuck, too much to enjoy. There wasn’t anything more important than the next day, his next move – why would he bother dwelling, relishing in the slow burn of a day that was already finished? People who liked sunsets were people who liked philosophical wanking over a greater purpose in life, a God, the universe, human kindness. All of that whatever. As far as he’d seen it, life was your own – your making and yours for the taking. The only universe that had existed was the one he was the centre of and no amount of sunsets were going to change that.

That was then.

He pulled Aaron in tighter and resisted the clichés of telling him everything was going to be okay. He didn’t need that. Aaron shivered into him and the materials of their jackets made a tacky sort of squeak.

“You cold?” Robert said.

Aaron sniffed, palming over his wet face. “Bit.”

“Look, why don’t I walk you home?”

“I’m not a kid, Robert.”

“I know. I know.” Robert’s fingers flexed on Aaron’s arm as if to keep him there but Aaron didn’t even try to pull away.

“I can’t let my mum see me like this. She’s in bits as it is.”

“You don’t have to be strong all the time.”

He exhaled into the hands pressed over his face. “I do.”

Robert rubbed Aaron’s shoulder and turned his head so that for one second, the wind lifted Aaron’s hair against his lips. This was the closest they’d been in the longest time and every part of Robert hurt. Not for himself, not for them, but for Aaron.

“Come inside, let me make you a brew,” Robert said, nodding towards the portacabin. “I know you always tell me I make it wrong but…” He tried smiling. “It might warm you up.”

“You do make it wrong,” Aaron said and straightened up so that cool air pushed between them. Robert’s arm hung loosely around Aaron’s shoulders.

“Is that a yes?”

“Yeah, alright. Thanks.”

Robert squeezed his shoulder and then his hand skimmed down the centre of Aaron’s back. He rose to his feet. The sun had almost set, plumes of orange thinned away to the gathering grey light. He caught a glimpse of Aaron looking at the same stretch of sky and looked over at him. “Come on,” he said, and tilted his head towards the cabin.


End file.
